


Faith or Fate

by rubylily



Category: Noir (Anime)
Genre: F/F, Romance, Scars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-27
Updated: 2012-10-27
Packaged: 2017-11-17 04:12:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/547483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rubylily/pseuds/rubylily
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kirika finds herself interested in Mireille's scars.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Faith or Fate

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for kink_bingo, with scars/scarification as the kink.

Kirika stared at Mireille's back. Even with just the faint moonlight that shone through the windows of their apartment, she could still make out every line and every scar on Mireille's skin. Most of the scars were faint, likely the result of rough scraps rather than any injury from a gun or other weapon.

Shrugging the bed sheets off her as she sat up, Kirika let out a heavy sigh. She and Mireille still shared a bed, and after they had returned from the Manor, they had repaired their apartment, cleaning the debris and replacing all the windows. Things looked to have returned to normal between them, but ever since that day the truth was revealed, the relationship between Kirika and Mireille had changed. For better or for worse, Kirika still couldn't tell.

They no longer took assassination jobs, and Mireille had mentioned once or twice about finding a new place to live. She had quite a bit of money saved up, Kirika knew, although she preferred not to press the subject.

Kirika returned her gaze to Mireille's sleeping form beside her. Mireille had lovely skin, almost flawless. Her scars weren't particularly noticeable, but Kirika knew better. And yet, Mireille's scars weren't quite as numerous as hers.

Slowly, Kirika reached out and touched Mireille's bare back, fingertips tracing the small scars. Mireille's skin was smooth, almost too soft, and her scars were barely nicks on that paleness. Kirika felt a smile tug at her lips; above all else, the scars were warm.

Mireille stirred, and Kirika saw the muscles in her back tense. "Kirika, are you still awake?" suddenly came her voice, and she didn't yet turn to face Kirika.

Kirika quickly pulled her hand back, her heart racing. "Um, yes," she answered in a quiet voice. "I can't sleep right now."

Sighing, Mireille sat up, the bed sheets falling from her body. She wore skimpy negligee that bared most of her back and legs. Kirika, on the other hand, simply wore a white tank-top and shorts, and she pulled the sheets closer to her. Even in this darkness Kirika couldn't help but blush; she still couldn't remember her own age, but she always felt less mature compared to Mireille.

Finally she allowed herself to speak. "I didn't wake you, did I?" she asked, forcing herself to meet Mireille's gaze.

Mireille shook her head. "I can't sleep either," she admitted, brushing a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. "There's something bothering you." She wasn't asking; she was simply making a statement.

Kirika lowered her eyes. "You have a lot of scars," she said. "Aren't you worried about other people seeing them?"

Mireille let out a cold laugh. "Why should I be?" she replied. "They're not noticeable, and no one would get close enough to see them."

"But I can see them…" Kirika's voice was hardly more than a whisper, and her fingers tightened around the sheets.

"Kirika." Mireille's voice was quiet, but stern. "You see them because you know what you're looking for." Quickly she gripped the hem of her top and took it off, and Kirika couldn't help but stare. Even in a lack of light Mireille's skin still seemed to shine, and what few scars could be seen seemed barely more than scrapes.

Kirika's face became warm. Her heart beat faster, and she pressed her legs closer together to try to calm that strong stirring. "Mireille…"

"Every scar is a reminder of a mistake," Mireille said, lifting a hand to touch Kirika's face. Her blue eyes were sharp, and Kirika couldn't look away. "And even just one mistake could've been fatal."

Mireille slid her free hand under Kirika's shirt, fingertips brushing against the scar caused when Altena had shot her, and Kirika let out a sharp gasp. "And every scar is a memory," Mireille continued, leaning in close to Kirika. "We were always bound by a black thread of fate…" And before Kirika could reply, Mireille had pressed her lips against hers.

It was a deep kiss, and Mireille slipped her tongue past Kirika's parted lips. Mireille's hands were warm against Kirika's skin, and Kirika lifted her hands to cup Mireille's breasts, running her thumbs over the hardening nipples. Soft, warm skin, but not flawless, and as Mireille pulled Kirika closer, Kirika moved her hands to Mireille's back, her fingers finding each and every scar. Memories and mistakes, fate's single black thread…

Kirika could feel a deep, intense feeling coiling within her, and through the thin fabric of her tank-top she could feel Mireille's breasts against hers. She traced the outlines of Mireille's scarred shoulder blades, and Mireille's fingernails scraped against the bullet scar on her stomach. The same scar that Altena had caused, the memory when she had nearly sacrificed herself to save Mireille's life, the life of her dear Mireille… Her whole body felt warm, burning even, and she pressed more into Mireille's touch and kiss…

And then Mireille broke the kiss and pulled her hands back, and she turned away from Kirika as she lay down on the bed again, her scarred back still visible. "Goodnight, Kirika," she whispered, her blonde hair falling over her face.

Kirika tried to hide the disappointment on her face. She wanted more from Mireille, and she wanted to do more with Mireille. These feelings that stirred within her heart… she still didn't understand them, but she realized at least that they were for Mireille. Was it love? It hurt so much, she almost couldn't believe these feelings were love, but all through her life she had never known any kind of love, so maybe, just maybe…

Yet, if Mireille wasn't ready, she understood. She would wait for when Mireille was willing, and she hoped that day would come soon.

Finally, her voice barely audible, Kirika replied, "Goodnight, Mireille…" She laid her hand over her still rapidly beating heart, and in the dim moonlight she could just make out a small, faint scar on her arm.

There was still a gap between the two of them, Kirika knew, but it was closing, slowly but surely.


End file.
